S'enfuir Avec Moi
by dobbytheellf
Summary: "I got a hippie van out there full of estranged friends who just happened to run into each other. It's not coincidence. It seems like you have problems, as we all do. Exécuter d'eux." said Eponine. "Run from them?" Enjolras considered it, running a nervous hand through his hair. She persisted, her breath just above his ear, "Maybe I didn't make myself clear. Run away with me."
1. Chapter 1

I.

"Start packing your shit, Azelma, because we're not coming back." Ordered Éponine.

Her 18 year old sister, Azelma, was frankly too dumbfounded to speak, so she contended to hastily packing her few belongings.

"_Merde, merde, merde,_" Éponine muttered to herself upon inspection of her hands. A dark crimson color stained her fingers and palms.

" 'Ponine," Azelma managed to speak, "He's not…?"

"Dead? No."

They silently observed the in unconscious body on the floor. Blood flowed profusely from the man's nose and a gash in his dark hairline, a streak of red running down his face and spreading on his shirtfront.

"But papa sure as hell deserves to be dead." Said Éponine through clenched teeth.

"Don't say that, just because he almost-"

"He almost killed you, 'Zelma."

A knowing silence hung in the air.

"For a second," Azelma breathed, "I thought he did…"

"That bastard," spat Éponine. "He deserves a lot worse than this."

Azelma's voice was almost a whimper, "But do we have to run away?"

"I'm not sure about you," Éponine packed a suitcase about as angrily as possible. "But I don't enjoy being sold to middle-aged, horny men for nights on end." She picked up a blouse from the floor, took a whiff, deemed it clean then threw it in the portmanteau. "I don't like being covered in scars and bruises. And I sure as enfer don't take pleasure in financially supporting our abusive father. We deserve better…"

"Can't we wait until we sort things out?" Azelma persisted, worry hanging in her words.

"If not now, then when?"

* * *

"Perhaps you've forgotten something, 'Ponine.."

"And what would that be?"

"A ride.."

"Please," scoffed Éponine, with a wave of her hand, "I've got that figured out."

Éponine sauntered across the street and buzzed into the apartment complex. Humming innocently, she knocked on the door marked 221 A. Within seconds, the door swung open.

"Oh, hello 'Ep." Rasped Montparnasse, rubbing his eyes awake. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Éponine didn't care too admit it, but she loved seeing Montparnasse in all of his morning wonder; jet-black hair a mess and stubble spread across his jaw. He was handsome, no doubt. Éponine cringed at the memory of her marveling at his beauty though; gazing wondrously into those dark eyes and kissing those full red lips lovingly.

"I've just missed you so much 'Parnasse." Éponine swung her arms around his broad shoulders, which tensed at her touch. "I miss what we used to be," she gushed, her eyes flirting sweetly.

"I-" He began, startled at her sudden affection and her cold touch. His shoulders relaxed. "I've missed you too."

Éponine pressed her lips to his in a quick motion and cupped her hand at his neck. She was trying so desperately to conceal her boredom, her other hand traced a line down his back, and fell into his back pocket. Montparnasse was enjoying the moment far too much to feel Éponine's nimble fingers grasp the metal keys from his pocket.

She was the one to break the kiss, pulling away indifferently.

"I'll see you around," she smirked, and skipped away giddily. As soon as she was out of his sight, her legs broke out into a sprint, causing her to nearly tumble down the single flight of stairs. Finally she reached the end of the street to discover Azelma securing their suitcases on top of the van parked at the curb.

It was Montparnasse's pride and joy, the van. It resembled a Volkswagen hippie van from the 60s or so, but it was well equipped with modern technology and enough seats for 8 people. Even Éponine had to admit, as cars go, it was beautiful.

"Almost done?" Éponine said.

"Yeah almost I just need the-" Her eyes went wide. "Shit."

"What?!"

"Montparnasse!" Azelma pointed a shaking finger at the man stumbling out of the building.

"_Sainte putain de merde_!" He cursed, his wild eyes set on Éponine. "_Putain allumeuse_!"

"GET THE REST OF THE BAGS!"

Éponine scurried to the back of the van and threw the remaining bags in, watching Montparnasse in the reflection of the back window growing larger.

"JUMP IN, 'ÉP!"

Instinctively, Éponine hurled herself into the trunk of the car, her back landing hard on the suitcases. She nearly fell out when Azelma slammed her foot on the gas.

"Sorry!" Shouted the younger sister.

Éponine groaned in response.

Montparnasse was running full speed after them; visible anger contorted in his face.

"Get, out, of, my, van!" Montparnasse gasped between breaths, hit feet slammed hard on the road after every step.

Azelma glanced in the rear view mirror, "Get him off our tail!"

"Oh _wow_, if only I had thought of that-"

"Just do it, Ép!"

Éponine desperately dug her hand underneath the carseats, and clasped her hands on an empty beer bottle.

She brandished it, waving the glass in the air as if to mock the runner.

"Bye, Parnasse," she said, throwing the bottle onto the pavement before him. It shattered just as she hoped it would.

She watched his silhouette diminish before shutting the hatch door.

"Are you alright?" Azelma asked.

Éponine's heavy breaths turned into gasps, which became a low chuckle, then a genuine and infectious laugh. The driver couldn't help but giggle too.

"Can we stop by Le Livre Rouge?" Éponine asked, climbing over the carseats and planting her bottom shotgun. She fiddled with the radio tuner, angrily flipping through bad station after bad station.

"Now?" Azelma took her eyes off the road for a split second to glance at her sister.

"I need to pick up my paycheck! We need as much money as we can get."

"I have, I think, about 94 euros, I mean that's not that much-"

Éponine threw her hands on the wheel and spun it quickly.

"_Ce que l'enfer_-" began Azelma.

The car jerked to the side of the road, wheels at the curb.

"It's right here. I'll be two minutes."

* * *

The shop was impressive, as bookstores go, adorned with wooden cases 15 feet high. In them was a colorful variety of books of every kind, scattered and unorganized.

Éponine walked into the bookstore in her usual manner; bored with a hint of bitter. Her expression changed when her working partner brushed passed her, tears brimming in his glassy eyes, and stomped away without recognition of her.

"Combeferre," Éponine called, stopping him in his tracks, "What happened?"

Combeferre had been working with her for as long as she can remember. They conversed mainly in complaints of their tyrannical and Napoleon-Complex ridden boss, Theodule. She always thought fondly of the university student plagued with mature manner and intelligent demeanor. Heavy-framed glasses sat on his nose, and his dirty-blonde hair often skimmed the top of them.

"They fired me," he whimpered, his voice quiet and low, blue eyes fixed on the floor. "They're firing us." He corrected himself, and met her gaze.

"Oh," breathed Éponine, like a sigh of relief.

"Oh? That's it?"

"Well I was going to quit today, anyway. I'm only here to pick up my paycheck. I've had enough of Theodule's harassment anyway."

"Merde," He sat on the windowsill, "I don't know what I'm going to do."

An idea sparked in Éponine's mind. It was crazy and stupid, but a better alternative than a miserable Combeferre.

"I do."

Combeferre knew that look in her eyes. "What?" He asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

She motioned for him to follow her. Combeferre was surprised when he found himself joining her, and even willingly climbing into the sketchy-looking hippie van that smelled strongly of stale coffee and sunscreen.

"Azelma, this is Combeferre. Combeferre, Azelma." Éponine introduced quickly.

The driver paused before speaking,"You went to _Lycée_ High right?"

"_Oui_, I've seen you there some years back. Do you still attend school there?"

"I just graduated last week, actually."

"CONGRATS, GRAD!" Éponine screamed, as she always did when Azelma would mention this.

The van lurched as Azelma pressed her foot against the pedal angrily.

"So where are we off to?" Inquired Combeferre, his mood lightening as distance between him and the bookstore increased.

"Oh, we don't know that." Éponine said, as-a-matter-of-factly.

"So…" He struggled to understand, then furrowed his eyebrows, "You don't know where we're going."

"We don't know _where_ we're going. We just know that we're going."

* * *

**A/n: Hello there! thanks for reading. I'm new to writing fics, so reviews would be very helpful! I definitely am planning e/e for this fic, but i'm not sure who to pair Azelma with. I was thinking more Jehan than Grantaire, but everyone seems to like Grantaire and Azelma together! I'm even planning to make playlists to go along with this fic, like each individual character's mixtape. These first few chapters are mostly going to be rounding the gang up. Anyway, please review, if you have any ideas I will totally consider them. Did i mention review? Haha, okay, again, thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

_A/n: thank you to all who followed, favorited, and reviewed. i love you and i hope i don't disappoint. this is going to be short, comprised of small stories of how the amis collect._

* * *

II.

It was a blur.

Éponine didn't remember finding Grantaire. He must have been stumbling outside of some bar. Desperate and lonely, he would be, shouting out at random strangers. Azelma must have rounded this drunkard up; she was a bartender and knew how to treat these men.

_"Grantaire was a funny kid. He was happy, too_," Éponine thought. "_What happened to him?"_

In high school, he had always been the partier. Grantaire would often come into school late, sunglasses shielding his light eyes, and weak legs guiding him into walls. He drank a lot; that was obvious, but he did that to have a good time. But it seems like he was drinking himself to death now.

"Grantaire," Azelma whispered the night before, "Look, look at me." She held his heavy head in her hands. His eyelids fluttered rapidly. "You're coming with us."

He muttered something inaudible.

"We're not going to let you drown yourself in alcohol."

"Are you an angel?" Éponine remembered him saying, and Azelma laughing lightly.

"No, just an intervention." She stated, pulling him into the backseat and laying him down. "Just sleep for now."

* * *

She couldn't recall the exact events that led her to opening the door for Joly.

The hypochondriac must have been having a panic attack, per the norm for the medical student.

He lived in the flat across from Combeferre, who insisted on picking up some food from his small refridgerator.

"Wasn't the idea of all this to forget _everything _and leave it all behind_?" _Azelma raised an eyebrow.

The boys, and Éponine were clearly insulted. "How dare you - sort of - take the name of food in vain!"

Éponine insisted on running in, instead of Combeferre, in case he was having any second thoughts.

She sure as hell didn't have one qualm.

To say Éponine was surprised upon seeing Combeferre's messy apartment was an understatement. The place looked like it had been ransacked by a mad novelist. Scrunched paper with wild ink marks littered the floor, tables, and seats. Books, miles high, were piled from floor to ceiling. The walls were white, and reflected the sun shining through the wooden window panes.

The girl made a beeline to the cabinets. She pulled out a box of potato chips, and other than that was a jar of olives.

"_Merde_, Combeferre," she laughed to herself, "It seems all that satisfies you are black words on white pages."

The door creaked slowly.

Éponine turned.

Standing in the doorway was a man. The wild look of a deer in headlights occupied his face, his lips struggled to form words.

"Y- You- You're not Com-" He stuttered.

"Joly! It's Éponine! Remember me? From high school?" She approached him slowly, taking careful steps.

"COMBEFERRE!" He screamed down the stairwell hopelessly, "THERE'S A WOMAN PILLAGING YOUR APARTMENT!" He turned, a second away from running.

"JOLY!" Now she was the one screaming, "You must remember me!" She picked up the nearest book and threw it in his direction, close enough to Joly for him to impulsively duck.

Shaking, his worried eyes searched her face for recognition.

Éponine rolled her dark eyes, and swallowed hard. She struggled to keep her voice calm. "Uh, I was the one-" She had not wanted to bring this up. "I was that girl who was in love with Marius Pontmercy."

_"Ohh_," a thing of a smile played on his lips, "Wait." The smile was gone in a blink. "What the hell are you doing in Combeferre's flat?"

"Uh," Éponine tried to pick out the right words, "We're going on a roadtrip. I need to get his stuff."

"Roadtrip? Combeferre? Doesn't sound right." He watched her skeptically as she dug around his cabinets in the kitchen.

"Uh, well yes. He's decided to be a bit spontaneous."

"I can never _abandon_ everything like that. Plus, he can only bring so many books with him at a time. He'll be back in no time."

"Think so, Monsieur?" teased Éponine, throwing some paperback books into her sack, knowing 'Ferre would be appreciative.

"Oh," breathed Joly, "I know so. Men, like him and me, we don't do well with 'spontaneit-"

"Can you help me with this bag, Joly?"

"You're fully capable, 'Ponine."

"Can you help me with this bag, Dan-"

"Don't," he scolded softly. He held out a hand, which Éponine dropped the bag in. "Don't ever say that."

"Got a problem, _Danielle_?" Éponine raised an eyebrow, a sly smile creeping on her mouth.

Joly remained silent for the lapse between her saying his actual birth name, (God knows how she found out), and him arriving at the van parked outside the complex.

"Okay," He set the bag of books down, making sure he didn't get too close to the vehicle. However, he did happen to notice a familiar face sitting upright in the trunk. "Grantaire?" Joly asked, cocking his head slightly. "What are you doing in-"

Grantaire had managed to pull Joly into the van in a swift motion.

"What the-?" croaked Joly as Éponine slammed the door shut, trapping him in the tiny space next to Grantaire.

"Have a drink, _mon ami," _Grantaire pulled a small bottle of liquor out from his boot, "You're going to need it."

* * *

Not long after the kidnapping of Joly, Azelma slammed on the breaks.

The group in the van, numbered 5 in total; Éponine, Azelma, Combeferre, Grantaire, and Joly jerked forward and simultaneously groaned.

"Wait!" Azelma said suddenly. "What the actual hell are we doing, 'Ponine?!"

"We are driving God knows where." Éponine retorted rather blankly.

"_Mon dieu, mon dieu_," Azelma repeated, worry laced in her trembling voice. "Wh-what about-"

"_Mon dieu_," it was Combeferre who spoke now, "She's right. What have I done? I can't believe I agreed to this stupid escape-"

More voices spoke up, each faster and more anxious than the last.

"GET A HOLD OF YOURSELVES!" Éponine shouted, silencing them. "I'm not sure about you guys, but I've had more fun in the past 3 hours listening to crappy music on the radio and driving in circles than my normal life. You guys were bored with your lives too. Don't try to make it like I've forced you to come with us. Except _Danielle_, he's an exception."

"_Danielle_?" Grantaire said, "Oh, Joly, so you are a girl." He playfully punched the hypochondriac's arm.

Before Joly could even curse at Éponine, Combeferre laughed.

"Great," he chuckled sarcastically, "Little 'Ponine has attracted the attention of a hitchhiker."

"I have a name," Azelma spat, glaring at the ex-book keeper. She jumped a bit when she discovered a man tapping on the glass of her door, motioning for her to roll down the window.

"Mind if I hitch a- hO- HOLY- HOLY SHIT!" The guy covered his mouth with his hand in disbelief. "_Ce que l'enfer_?!"

Éponine ducked her head into his view, "Courfeyrac?"

A wide smile spread across his face, " 'Ponine, I don't care what your objections are, I'm coming in." He swung open the door and planted himself on the seat nearest the window.

" 'Ferre? Grantaire? Joly? Dear God, what a day this has been. I just ran into Marius and Cosette about 5 minutes ago." Courfeyrac shifted, kicking his shoes off.

"You what?" Éponine said.

"I just saw Marius with Cosette, they were going to see-"

Éponine wasn't listening, she kicked her sister out of the drivers seat and hit the pedal.

Her eyes glanced in the rear-view mirror to question Courfeyrac, "What kind of car were they in?"

"Uh," he scratched his head, trying to remember, "It was white?"

"Good enough for me." Éponine looked into the distance, eyes set on a white spec barely skimming her vision.

* * *

a/n: ah! still 5 more people to add to the van. anyway, please review and tell me any ideas you have regarding how they come into the story, or places they visit, or even music selection. i'm always open to ideas! but please review, it really does make my day.


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